Star Wars: Fate Of The Jedi: Omen Part 5

"Yeah, Uncle Han told me about that," Ben retorted, his own mouth twitching as he suppressed a grin. "You didn't want to get a good education. You wanted to go hang out with your friends."

It was a bittersweet joke; Luke indeed had ended up flying with his best friend Biggs Darklighter, but under completely different circ.u.mstances. It had not been a joyride or race or friendly compet.i.tion; it was an a.s.sault on the Death Star, and it had cost the lives of everyone in the Red Squadron except Wedge Antilles and Luke Skywalker.

But Luke smiled fondly at the comment. The memories he held of Biggs were all good ones. Biggs had not been the first to die for a cause he devoutly believed in, and he wouldn't be the last. But he'd died making a difference, and that was the way Luke knew his friend had wanted it.

So it was easy for Luke to shoot back to his son, "Too bad you don't have any close friends that aren't your family. Maybe you'll become friends with an Aing-Tii kid."

Ben grimaced. "I'm ... not too sure about that."

A few hours before, Cilghal had transmitted everything she had been able to learn so far about the Kathol Rift and the Aing-Tii. It wasn't a lot, but the two Skywalkers had divvied up the research between them. Luke had given Ben the information on the Aing-Tii, while he had studied the complex and extremely dangerous spatial phenomenon that was the Rift. Ben was certainly a capable pilot, though one could always be better and Luke had often given his son the helm during the journey in order for Ben to have more flying hours under his belt. But the Rift was something else again, and Luke felt more comfortable managing it himself.

It was difficult to navigate for a whole host of reasons. To begin with, it was huge-a cloud of wildly unstable gases, the birthplace of thousands of stars, that was several pa.r.s.ecs wide. Several pa.r.s.ecs was about as precise as one could be, considering that the cloud was constantly shifting. At first glance, this place of powerful electromagnetic lightstorms and sensor-distorting radiation seemed impossible to traverse. But the Aing-Tii, who were thought to live on one of the thousands of planets believed to lie inside the Rift, seemed to navigate it just fine. Uncannily fine, as a matter of fact. They seemed completely able to avoid the lightstorms that were quite capable of destroying entire fleets of ships in a matter of minutes, and by all accounts their vessels appeared untouched by particle buildup that could render sensors pretty much useless and weapons systems utterly nonfunctional.

They could do this because there were currents in the Rift-the literature referred to them as "corridors"-that twined throughout the stunningly beautiful, colorful, and incredibly dangerous gas cloud.

The trick was that the corridors changed position. Frequently. One report stated that they changed as often as dozens of times in a twenty-four-hour day. The logical conclusion was that there was some kind of predictable pattern to how and when these corridors shifted, and that the Aing-Tii had figured out the mystery. So far, though, no one else had, at least no one whose recollections and observations could be found in the Jedi Archives.

Even if one did happen upon one of the corridors, no pilot or crew could possibly call such a pa.s.sageway "safe." These areas were simply less dangerous than the rest of the Rift because the concentration of radiation and charged particles was slightly less.

Moving through the Kathol Rift, for non-Aing-Tii vessels, meant placing one's ship in constant danger. Even in the corridors, weapons ranges were cut in half, shields were weakened-and as for communications systems, Luke figured he might as well resign himself to not hearing from Cilghal again once they entered, even with Mara's incredibly sophisticated equipment upgrades.

Then, once they did enter the Rift, they'd be targets. Not just for the xenophobic Aing-Tii, who were infamous for disliking anyone sticking their noses into their business, but for the energy discharges of the Rift itself. A ship acted like a lightning rod, so for the entire duration of their trip the Jade Shadow would be pounded by energy bolts. It would be quite a show visually, but an extremely b.u.mpy ride.

And there was another reason the Rift was so dangerous.

A stigma was attached to the place, a stigma that went above and beyond the fact that it was simply a bad place for a ship to be. Cilghal had seen fit to enclose in her transmission a whole host of first-person reports that came uncomfortably close to being cla.s.sified as "ghost stories." At first Luke was confused as to why Cilghal had included them. He was inclined to lump them into the same categories as cabin fever and s.p.a.cesickness, but then he realized that report after report insisted that Force-sensitives were more strongly affected than others.

Most planets here would not thrive particularly well, Luke supposed. The constant high levels of radiation were not exactly conducive to the vast majority of life-forms. He wondered how the Aing-Tii managed to survive as well as they seemingly did.

Luke stretched, rose, and went to the small area that served as a galley. "Hungry?"

Ben looked up from the hologram. "I'm sixteen. Of course I'm hungry."

Luke grinned and selected two bowls of brogy stew and a nerf steak, programmed the requisite amount of time into the pulse oven, and returned to where his son was sitting.

"So, brief me," he said, leaning back in his chair. He put on his old-timer voice again. "And remember, young apprentice, your continued progress depends on this report."

That got a full-fledged grin from Ben. "Well," he said, "I'm not quite done going through it all yet. Cilghal sent me a metric ton of information."

"When faced with an overwhelming amount of information, begin at the beginning. Start with the basics. What are they like physically?"

Ben touched a pad, and a holographic image about a third of a meter high appeared. It was bipedal, standing squarely on feet that had two clawed digits in front and one in the back. A large tail swept behind it; its forelegs had two digits and seemed disproportionately tiny. It was covered with overlapping bony plates, from the long tail to its skull. Large eyes peered out beneath a plate that resembled a helmet. Each of the jointed plates had some kind of markings that were either painted, etched, or tattooed on; it was hard to tell at this size.

"They look reptilian, but actually they're edentate mammals," Ben said. "They're about two meters tall and-"

The pulse oven announced that their meals were ready with a soft chime. Ben-suddenly reminding Luke that, even though his son was a Jedi Knight and had been through more than Luke had even imagined at his age, he was also a ravenous teenager-practically sprang from his chair to get their food, leaving his sentence unfinished. Luke continued to study the three-dimensional, animated model and raised an eyebrow when the small image suddenly shot forth not one but six long, thin, squirming tongues.

A few moments later Ben brought their meals back on trays, along with two steaming cups of caf and four sweetcakes that looked evilly gooey.

"Thanks, Ben, but I don't want any sweetcakes," Luke said as he reached for the caf and sipped it.

"Oh, I know, those are for me." Ben began cutting his steak as he talked, his eyes still on the Aing-Tii. For all his joking complaints, he was clearly very interested. In his role as the son of the Jedi Grand Master, he had attended several diplomatic functions and met a staggering variety of beings. He was no backplanet farm boy seeking novelty, as Luke had been at his age. But the Aing-Tii were mysterious, unknown, elusive, and intriguing.

"So, yeah, about two meters tall, and they can apparently use those tails quite effectively in combat," Ben said, then took a bite of steak and chewed.

"Speaking of combat, what are their tactics in battle? That seems to be what we know best about them, from the brief glance I had at Cilghal's summary."

Ben paused in midchew, his green eyes narrowing. "She gave you a summary?"

Luke chuckled and took a bite of the stew. "Instructor's prerogative. Keep going, you're doing fine."

Ben swallowed, scowled, and continued. "Well, like I said, they can slap you with that tail pretty good. They also have these-well, they're like clubs, or sticks, wrapped up in some kind of wiring that delivers a very powerful stun."

He popped another bite in his mouth, talking as he ate. Luke was mildly amused. Leia knew the etiquette of dozens of species and had done her best, along with Mara, to instill manners in the boy. And when it mattered, Luke knew that his son was capable of behaving impeccably in a formal situation. But right now, they were simply two bachelors eating dinner and talking, and formality had gone out the air lock, and Luke didn't mind one bit. He resisted an impulse to ruffle his son's red hair affectionately.

"Now, their ships-" Ben swallowed, extended an arm, and tapped another key. The image of the Aing-Tii was replaced by that of their vessel. "These things are really astral."

Luke took another spoonful of stew, looking at the miniature holographic vessel that turned slowly. Roughly ovoid, it resembled the beings who presumably built it in that it, too, was covered with thick hull plates that bore similar designs to what the Aing-Tii sported on their bodies. Conical projections jutted seemingly at random from the hull. The whole thing struck Luke as organic in some fashion, and for a moment he was uncomfortably reminded of the Yuuzhan Vong.

"It's huge," Ben said with a mouthful of stew, having already devoured the nerf steak. Luke remembered when he'd had an appet.i.te like that and marveled silently as Ben continued. "They're called Sanhedrim ships. Half the size of an Imperial-cla.s.s Star Destroyer. The Aing-Tii have some kind of technology or Force knowledge that enables the ships to appear out of nowhere-literally just pop from one place to another. They use a variety of attack styles, the least pleasant of which is when they suddenly turn and smash your ship across their bow. The most benevolent is bathing your ship with some kind of ray that apparently distorts your perception of time. By the time you recover your wits, their ship is long gone."

Luke frowned, the bowl of stew forgotten for the moment. "Distortion of time ... I wonder, does it just stun the victim somehow, or does it really alter time? After all, these are the beings who developed the knowledge of flow-walking. There could be a connection."

"Maybe. You going to eat that?"

Luke shook his head, his eyes still on the miniature Aing-Tii. "Go ahead."

"Thanks." Ben sc.r.a.ped what Luke had left of his stew into his own bowl and continued eating.

"We know they are fiercely isolationist and xenophobic. What about their belief system?" Luke knew the answer to this, but wanted to see how far Ben had gotten in his research. To be fair, there had been a lot to dig through. Right now, though, they had nothing but time on their hands, and he wanted Ben to learn everything he could.

"It's a little odd sounding. I think-I'm not sure-but I think the term Sanhedrim means 'pilgrim,' or maybe 'monk.' I've run across the term Aing-Tii monks in various notes from eyewitness encounters. It seems as though the few ships and aliens that anyone's encountered are either the explorers among their people or on a quest or pilgrimage or something. I don't think they as a people are casual s.p.a.cefarers, not like humans are. So that raises the question, what are they looking for? And why?"

Ben paused for another quick bite, and Luke asked, "What's your conclusion from what you've learned?"

"Talon Karrde actually ran across them once, did you know that?" Ben grinned as his father's blond eyebrows lifted.

"No, Cilghal failed to mention that in her summary."

"Aha!" Ben pointed his spoon at his father in a victorious gesture.

"Son, that just supports my theory that research you do yourself is more useful than research someone else does for you. Continue, my young apprentice."

Ben mock-scowled. "Karrde's report didn't say much, so we might want to contact him directly if we can. But what interests me is that he met the Aing-Tii through his former boss, Jorj Car'das, who actually lived among the Aing-Tii. He was, it seemed, very ill-dying in fact-and Master Yoda sent him to go and ask the Aing-Tii for aid."

This much, at least, Cilghal had included in her overview. She'd also included the complete doc.u.ment Car'das had written about his sojourn with the aliens. Luke fully intended to read that from start to finish himself.

"They healed him, but asked that he sort of be their chronicler. So he wrote down everything he learned about them. Which is a lot."

"I have to say," said Luke, reaching for a sweetcake despite his earlier claim that he was not interested, "that that strikes me as strange. Everything we know about the Aing-Tii says they are very intent upon maintaining their privacy. They'll attack and even kill to defend it. So why admit a human they've never met-one in dire need of a huge favor from them, no less-into their innermost circle? And then let him write about his experiences?"

"Well, if Yoda sent you someone and asked you to take care of him, wouldn't you do it?"

Luke laughed at that. "Yes I would, as fast as I possibly could. But I'm a Jedi, and Yoda was a Jedi Master. That's a bit different."

"We don't know what their personal relationship with Master Yoda was. Maybe it was just as close or even closer. Even if they're not Jedi-and it seems pretty clear by all accounts that they're not-they're Force-users on an impressive scale. Who knows what kind of relationship they had with him?"

"You raise an excellent point."

"Thanks. I wish I could have met him."

"I wish you could have, too," Luke said quietly. "I wish I'd had more time with him myself. He was ..."

Luke's voice trailed off. A silence fell, broken only by the sound of Ben's spoon sc.r.a.ping the bottom of the bowl.

There were not really words sufficient to the task of describing the deceptively small, large-eared, green-skinned being, as wise as he was wizened. He had opened Luke's eyes to so very much in the brief time Luke had been with him. Luke missed him and his other teacher and friend, Obi-Wan Ken.o.bi, "Ben," after whom his son was named. Obi-Wan had also been taken from Luke after too brief a time. That they were part of the Force now, he knew; he had seen them. Anakin Sky-walker and Mara were with them, and one day he and Ben would both join them.

But not today.

"Well, let's put it this way," he said. "Anyone Yoda trusts enough to send a dying human to for help, I could learn to have warm fuzzy feelings about. Continue with your theory about why they're going on these quests or pilgrimages."

Ben set aside the empty bowls and plate and reached for a sweet-cake. "According to Car'das, the Aing-Tii believe in elusive, mysterious deities they refer to as 'Those Who Dwell Beyond the Veil.' Your guess is as good as anyone else's as to what they are and what veil means."

"It might refer to the Rift."

Ben shrugged and ate half the sweetcake in a single bite. With his mouth full, he said, "Maybe. But one thing we do know is that they are collecting artifacts."

"Artifacts to offer to these beings, or artifacts from these beings?"

Again Ben shrugged. Luke was suddenly struck by how broad those shoulders had gotten over the last two years. Oh, Mara, you'd be so proud of him. He's a fine young man. A ghost of a smile curved Luke's lips as he imagined Mara rolling her eyes at both him and Ben. Yes, her presence was definitely here in this ship that had been so uniquely hers. He returned his attention to his son's slightly crumb-enhanced discourse.

"One of the records said they utilized a human to retrieve an artifact for them. It was called the Codex. No one's sure how they got him to cooperate. The best guess is that they brainwashed him, but they kinda messed up and he went insane from it."

"It's difficult enough for an experienced Jedi to do such things without causing damage," Luke said. "I imagine it must be almost impossible to try something on a species you're unfamiliar with."

Ben paused in midchew for a second before resuming eating. His reddish brows drew together for a moment, and a shadow pa.s.sed over his face. Luke knew without even having to sense his sudden disquiet in the Force what his son was thinking. Ben was recalling a moment three years ago when Jacen had inadvertently killed a prisoner while mentally torturing her for information. Ben hadn't been present, hadn't seen it happen with his own eyes-but he had been just outside the room, had heard and felt things through the Force that had forever and irrevocably altered his opinion of Jacen Solo.

"Well, sounds like you're off to a good start," Luke said lightly, reaching out to squeeze Ben's shoulder. "Time for my report."

He filled Ben in on the basics of the challenges addressing them. "I think that we may have an extra card to play, though. I'm wondering if the ha.s.sat-durr technique I learned could be useful here."

Ben had the proper teenager's dubious expression, but he also looked as if he wanted to be impressed. "Really?"

"Really. Think about it. Ha.s.sat-durr means 'lightning rod' in their language, right?"

"Right, you told me," Ben said. "Because if you're not perfect in your mastery of it and perform it during a storm, you'll be repeatedly struck by lightning and killed."

"It stands to reason therefore that if you are a master of it, you could use it to be a sort of anti-lightning rod. To deflect energies, at least to a small degree."

"I guess," Ben said. It sounded like the dubious part was winning.

Luke grinned. "Well, it's worth a try anyway. I'm pretty sure I know enough to not be a lightning rod."

"That's good. I'd die horribly embarra.s.sed."

"Where'd you get that sarcastic sense of humor?"

"From Mom."

"Ah, right. How do you like spiders?"

The change of topic caught Ben off-guard. "What do you mean?"

"Spiders. Giant glowing ones, or hundreds of small ones crawling on every centimeter of the ship." Luke was enjoying this.

Ben shrugged. "Not pleasant, of course, but I don't have any particular fear of them. Are you telling me that giant glowing spiders lurk in the Rift, too?"

"In your mind," Luke said. "Apparently this part of s.p.a.ce is known for causing hallucinations. Force-sensitives in particular are affected. Spiders-from the large and glowing to the small and plentiful-are one of the recurring hallucinations reported. So, too, are sightings of little hairless beings with large eyes, slit noses, and tiny mouths. Other side effects are nausea and severe headaches."

" ... I don't think I like the field trips the Mobile Chapter of the Jedi academy provides," Ben said.

Luke grinned. He pointed at the last sweetcake. "You going to eat that?"

"I'll split it with you."

"Deal."

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT.

MASTER KENTH HAMNER, ACTING GRAND MASTER OF THE JEDI ORDER, made sure he was the first to arrive in the High Council Chamber.

He needed the time to think.

Hamner went to one of the windows and looked through it. When the Temple had been rebuilt, so had this tower. Except now the tower was enclosed within a so-very-modern transparisteel pyramid. Therefore one was not able to look out directly into the skies of Coruscant as one used to. Instead, one was treated to the far less scenic sights of painted duracrete or transparisteel walls, with the occasional tiny figures of Jedi moving about their business. Doubtless the architect had been proud of the "stylish" design. Hamner sighed and wished they'd simply stuck to what had worked so well for so long.

He had done his best to navigate the Jedi through one of their most trying times. He was good at the game of politics; he had a flair for it, a deftness when it came to dealing with people. Luke Skywalker had known that about him, and had also known that Hamner was respected in many quarters. He himself knew he was a good choice for interim Master.

And yet everything he did, every order he gave, every stance he took, seemed to drive the Jedi he was trying to protect-both as individual beings and the Order as a whole-even deeper into a very ugly pile of bantha poodoo.

Daala in particular seemed to confound him. She had initially struck Hamner as a good choice for Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance. The Imperial connections didn't seem to matter so much after the war, not when Jagged Fel was the Imperial Head of State and was clearly involved with Jedi Knight Jaina Solo, daughter of two famous erstwhile Rebels. It was-calming, actually. Natasi Daala herself seemed rational and composed. Things had been going well.

Until Luke Skywalker had been arrested, and Valin Horn had gone-and Hamner himself realized he agreed with the choice of words-criminally insane.

He'd done his best to cooperate, thinking to hunker down and ride out the storm. He'd let the GA a.s.sign their "observers," at least until Nawara Ven had been able to overturn that order. He'd let GA Security into the Temple itself to physically remove the raving Valin, in full view of the observers. He'd opened up areas of the Temple to the public, even the press, for scrutiny. And yet Daala was still riding the Order, pressing down on them like an a.s.sa.s.sin pressing a thumb on the carotid artery until blackness descended.

He shook his head. That was an unkind image. And yet-he had requested a meeting with her immediately, and she had put him off for three days.

Three days.